


So long, my friend

by Nekohime_Yami



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Comedy, Fluff and Crack, Gay Disaster Shiro (Voltron), Happy Ending, I can't believe this tag is not a thing, M/M, Pining, Pining Shiro (Voltron), Thirsty Shiro, anyway, i guess, some angst-flavoured lacroix in the end
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-30
Updated: 2018-10-30
Packaged: 2019-08-11 00:06:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,895
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16464905
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nekohime_Yami/pseuds/Nekohime_Yami
Summary: The first time was Matt’s fault.The older of the Holt siblings had managed to convince Shiro that he could put off grading papers for one night in favour of meeting the gang for drinks in a nice little pub with good food and music. It had been a long time since Shiro last got a chance to unwind, he reasoned, a nice night out with friends would be good for him. Really, what could go wrong?After ten years apart, Shiro meets Keith again. Keith has grown, and Shiro is a disaster.





	So long, my friend

**Author's Note:**

  * For [lasersheith](https://archiveofourown.org/users/lasersheith/gifts).



> Inspired by [this](https://youtu.be/sZsJyCyGBSI) and encouraged by [lasersheith](https://lasersheith.tumblr.com/).  
> *waves vaguely at fic* I don't know exactly what this is, but please have it!  
> Happy belated birthday! ❤
> 
> (please imagine Shiro disastering in dramatic slow-motion as the loong looooong song plays in the background)
> 
> (also, this is my first time writing comedy/thirst, I hope it's ok...)

The first time was Matt’s fault.

The older of the Holt siblings had managed to convince Shiro that he could put off grading papers for one night in favour of meeting the gang for drinks in a nice little pub with good food and music. It had been a long time since Shiro last got a chance to unwind, he reasoned, a nice night out with friends would be good for him. Really, what could go wrong?

By the time Shiro and Matt arrived, Hunk, Lance and Allura had already gotten them a nice reserved booth and ordered some food, and were engaged in some topic of conversation which involved a lot of angry flailing on Lance’s part. The only one missing was Pidge, but Matt said she’d be a little late because of work.

“So, what’s Lance angry flailing about?” Matt asked as soon as they’d greeted everyone and sat down.

“I’m not  _ flailing _ !” Lance sputtered.

“Yes you are, buddy,” Hunk countered, to more sputtering.

“We were talking about Keith,” Allura supplied helpfully.

The mention of that name made Shiro pause. It had been ten years or so since he’d last seen the younger boy he’d been so close with back in high school… he wondered how he was doing now. “What about him?” he couldn’t help but ask.

“He’s working with Pidge and Hunk now,” said Matt. “That’s why I insisted for you to come today! It was supposed to be a surprise, he’s coming with Pidge,” he hastily added to Shiro’s  _ look _ .

“So he’s in your development team?” Shiro turned to Hunk, letting Matt go for now, prioritising his own curiosity.

“Actually, he’s our test pilot,” Hunk grinned.

“Which is  _ totally _ unfair!” Lance cut in, throwing his hands up angrily. “That guy is always-”

Shiro was sure they were about to relive the old days of Lance constantly whining about all the imaginary ways Keith had one-upped him, but gladly they were interrupted by a familiar voice.

“Is Lance whining about Keith again?” asked Pidge as she walked up to their table, plopping down unceremoniously beside Hunk.

“I don’t  _ whine _ !” he whined, crossing his arms for emphasis.

“Yeah, right,” quipped another voice, familiar but strange, rougher and deeper than Shiro remembered it.

Shiro turned towards the voice, and his heart stopped.

The last time they’d seen each other, before Shiro left for college and they lost contact, Keith had been a tiny calf of a kid, barely coming up to Shiro’s chest, all skinny arms and legs, big eyes and shaggy hair, in clothes two or five sizes too big. Loyal, fiery, a bundle of talent and potential.

Now, it was like looking at all that potential realised. Shiro’s eyes followed impossibly long legs clad in dark dress jeans up to a tiny waist that flared into broad shoulders, in a simple black V-neck T-shirt and red leather jacket that emphasized the slender but strong build of a martial artist. Shaggy dark hair had grown long and silky, pointy chin and chubby cheeks into gorgeous sharp angles. A scar slashed across his right cheek and stopped just short of his big, beautiful indigo eyes, adding to his attractiveness rather than subtracting from it. He carried himself with the kind of quiet confidence Shiro had dreamed for him all those years ago, and it was  _ devastating _ .

“Keith,” he breathed, softer and more wrecked than intended.

Those beautiful eyes turned to him, softening around the edges as a smile spread through perfect lips. “Shiro,” he replied softly, absolutely destroying Shiro. “Long time no see.”

“Very… long,” Shiro replied, definitely  _ not _ referring to  _ those legs _ . “It’s so glad you’re back.”

Those perfect, strong brows furrowed slightly, and Shiro scrambled to untangle whatever mess his half-dead brain had spouted.

“I mean - I’m so glad you’re back. It’s good to have you back,” he clarified. “I missed you,” he managed to finish somewhat smoothly and not breathless at all, he thought, and was rewarded for his effort with the softest, brightest, most glorious smile he’d ever beheld.

“It’s good to be back. I missed you too, Shiro,” Keith replied softly, sitting down beside Shiro and subsequently replacing every thought in his already half-dead brain with dial-up internet modem noises from the 1990s.

Scrambling to make room for Keith, he somehow managed to knock everyone’s drinks down, causing a pandemonium of people scrambling to get up and not get their clothes wet with a random mess of liquor.

Well.

Shit.   
  
  


He blamed Hunk for the second time.

He’d recommended the old-time self-service kinda diner after they’d somehow salvaged the disaster Shiro had made of their last meeting, saying the food and coffee were good and the old-timey ambience was nice. As was usually the case when it came to Hunk and food, he was right: the place was comfortable, well-lit, and the food was great. But Shiro should have  _ known _ , expected on some level that it would happen.

He’s pouring his third cup of coffee from the old-school pot when he hears the bell in the entrance door chime, and, damn him, decides to look up. In strolls his eternal demise in the form of Keith, gorgeous, wonderful Keith in dark skinny jeans and combat boots and a cropped jacket that somehow makes his waist look even smaller and his legs even longer. It’s life-ruining. Those legs, Shiro knows, will be the end of him. Because even though Keith is still a few inches shorter than him, his legs are an inch or two longer, and, as he can now tell in  _ those cursed jeans _ , slender and shapely and perfect. His throat has never been this dry. All thoughts have been replaced by white noise and the repetition of the jingle from that extra dramatic Japanese chewing gum commercial. Shiro feels like the girl staring at the bearded guy as he dramatically chews the unnecessarily long strip of gum.

That’s how he doesn’t notice when Keith looks at him, and his eyes widen, and he’s awakened from his trance by an “Oh my god, Shiro!” in that lovely voice, and then Keith’s running towards him.

He wonders what could have worried him so and looks down to find his one flesh hand drenched in coffee, the hot black liquid pouring out of the pot, overflowing from his cup into his hand, and the table, and slowly trickling into his lap. Immediately he scrambles to put the pot down and start trying to stem the flow of coffee from the table to the ground with paper towels. It’s a mess, much like his life at this point.

“Shiro, are you OK? What happened?” Keith’s worried voice somehow makes things simultaneously better and worse.

“I, uh… I got distracted,” Shiro answered, almost sheepishly.

“Did you get burnt?” Then Keith is taking his hand, and Shiro’s brain is white noise again.

Next thing he knows they’re in the hospital, and he has a burned hand and burned thighs.

When Matt, somehow, magically, finds out about what happened, Shiro can never live it down.   
  
  


Allura is to blame for the third time.

_ We should do Yoga _ , she’d said.

_ It will be great stress relief _ , she’d said.

In theory, it was a great idea, which was how Shiro had ended up in old sweats taking Yoga classes at sunrise with Allura. It  _ was _ a great stress relief, and helped with a number of pains from gym and classes and… everything else.

But when Keith walks into their class in a loose red top and  _ tight _ black leggings, Shiro’s soul ascends to a different plane of existence. He hopes he’ll get it back while they meditate after classes.

His body is on autopilot as Keith greets him and Allura, going through the motions out of habit even as his mind is once again replaying the jingle from the Japanese long chewing gum commercial. It can’t possibly get worse, he thinks, but then Keith settles in front of him and Shiro gets a special up-close back view of him, with his toned arms and perfect long legs and…  _ everything else _ , as their instructor arrives and they start going through the usually stress-relieving positions.

Shiro is sure he is going to die, extremely glad he wore compression shorts under his loose sweats, and hasn’t gotten his soul back yet, but is somehow perfectly fine with it.

He thinks he does pretty well, all things considered, until they’re doing the sun salutation and they get to the downward-facing dog. He looks up when he knows he shouldn’t, and it’s  _ right there _ , and  _ god _ , those unholy leggings are really,  _ really  _ tight.

He slips, and falls face first into the mat, and his only saving grace is that he can pretend the nosebleed was from the fall.

Allura knows better.

He really hopes Keith doesn’t.   
  
  


Fourth time’s on Lance.

Summer is in full swing by now, and a pool party sounds like a great idea to everyone, but it’s Lance’s idea. Shiro should have rejected it on principle, but it’s hot and he loves his friends. So he wears his board shorts and a T-shirt, applies an unholy amount of sunscreen, and goes to meet everyone at Allura’s, because she’s rich enough to have a swimming pool in her yard.

He should have expected Keith would be there, and he had, to a degree, but nothing could prepare him to the sight of him in a loose tank top displaying beautifully slender, but still deliciously toned shoulders and arms and a peek of  _ pecs _ , and board shorts that don’t quite make it to his knees, damn his long, perfect legs. Shiro’s brain is almost used to that gum commercial jingle and 1990s dial-up internet modem noises by now, really.

What it’s not used to, is Keith with his hair in a careless low ponytail. It’s not equipped to deal with the sight of Keith without a shirt because  _ wow, that’s a lot of abs _ . So really, who could blame Shiro for slipping and falling into the pool from the raised platform he was chilling on with Matt, when he’s distracted while walking by the sight of Keith coming out of said pool shirtless and wet, looking like a three-course meal in too-short, wet board shorts that cling deliciously to those legs, and that… everything else?

Shiro slips, and falls, and hits his head on the bottom of the pool and almost drowns.

There is some mouth-to-mouth resuscitation involved.

(His memories of the day, fortunately or not, are hazy.)

Matt captures it all on camera.   
  
  


The fifth time happens because of Pidge.

Shiro should have expected something to go wrong when she said she wanted to start jogging. In the mornings. Including weekends. Starting on a Sunday at 6 AM.

But, fool that he was, he was blinded by the idea of a healthier lifestyle for his youngest, smallest friend. Maybe she wouldn’t die young, buried in greasy snacks in front of a computer screen.

Which brought him to the nicest park in the neighbourhood, in running gear, with Pidge (who he wasn’t completely sure was actually awake) at 6 AM on a Sunday, expecting a nice morning jog to get the day started on a positive, healthy note. It should have been simple. Invigorating. Relaxing.

It was all of those things, until he spotted someone running towards them, and soon recognised the person as Keith. In a T-shirt, running shoes and tiny cross-country shorts that he was sure were _much_ shorter than any shorts should be, but he guessed no company could have accounted for that waist-to-leg ratio. The shorts covered maybe three inches of perfect, firm, supple thighs, and moved to cover _even_ _less_ every step he took. It was absolutely mesmerising.

So much so, Shiro didn’t look where he was going, tripped on a root and had a very close and personal encounter with a very solid tree.

The last thing he saw was the worry in Keith’s beautiful eyes, and then it all went dark.

He woke up much later, in the hospital, to find out from Pidge that  _ Keith had carried him there _ .

Fortunately, his nose wasn’t broken.

Unlike his dignity.   
  
  


The last time it happened, he could blame no one but himself.

Somehow his entire friend group had managed to take a holiday at the same time, and decided to spend it in one of Allura’s holiday homes, at her suggestion. A week of relaxing and fun with friends, it was perfect. Shiro even managed to be mostly coherent around Keith for most of their stay.

That is, until their last night there, when everything went down in a blaze of glory.

In Shiro’s defence, it was late, he was tired and maybe more than a little tipsy. Not to mention all doors in this floor looked the same, and Keith’s was right beside his. It was actually a wonder that it never happened before that night.

“It” being Shiro simply walking into Keith’s assigned suite like it was his own (he thought it was, he swore he did), to find Keith coming out of the adjoined bathroom in only what he guessed should have been red-and-black boxer briefs, but ended up way too short thanks to that  _ impossible _ waist-to-leg ratio, and a towel thrown over his shoulders, face and chest still a little flushed from the shower and long hair occasionally releasing a droplet of water into perfect collarbones, down between sculpted pecs and mouth-watering abs, to die in the band of too-short, low-riding supposedly-boxer-briefs.

Whatever Shiro had been thinking about was once more replaced by the now familiar 1990s dial-up internet modem noises, and his soul ascended to a plane even higher (or lower) – but you bet he sobered up immediately, probably thanks to the rush of blood up and down.

“Shiro?” the voice was soft, and curious more than anything, so Shiro forced himself to look up into confused eyes and slightly furrowed eyebrows.

Shiro choked. “I-I’m sorry, I swear I didn’t intend to come in here my suite is just the next room over and- anyway I’ll just go…“

Shiro turned to leave, but was stopped by Keith catching his wrist. He turned to the younger man, a deer in headlights, breath stopped in his lungs, thoughts flat lining.

“I  _ missed _ you, Shiro.” Keith went straight for the jugular, as he did; as he always used to do, even back then. “And I- I don’t know why you’ve been acting strange around me after we finally met again, but if there is  _ anything _ I can do to fix it… please tell me.”

His eyes were so honest, and so beautiful, and so hurt, Shiro couldn’t breathe. “I… It’s nothing you did, just…” How did he explain it?  _ You’re too beautiful, I can’t think around you _ ? Another droplet fell into his collarbones, down and down and- “Can you please put on some clothes?” He forced himself to look away, blushing.

Keith blinked at him, once, twice, before also blushing and turning away, hurrying to find a pair of shorts and a shirt. “Sorry, you probably didn’t want to see-“

“It’s the opposite, really,” Shiro’s traitorous mouth blabbed, to the utter disbelief of whatever was left of functional human in him. “I mean, I just… You know I’ve always been a disaster when it comes to love and…”

Keith froze.

Shiro froze, scrambling to think of some way to salvage this-

“…love?” Keith’s voice was barely above a whisper, soft and vulnerable, and when Shiro looked up from the ground it was into wide eyes and a soft, hesitant smile.

He could never survive that smile, never hide anything from those eyes. “I  _ missed _ you too, Keith. So much,” he finally let out, words flowing like a broken dam. “When I had to leave, back then, and I got there and realised I had no way to contact you I… I held on because I thought I’d go back home for holidays and you’d be there, but… you weren’t. You had just  _ disappeared _ and I thought I’d never see you again.” He breathed, Keith’s wide eyes still on him, giving him his full, undivided attention. As he did. As he always used to do, even back then. “Then you showed up. And I guess… I guess I was waiting for that little boy from the desert, but you’ve grown so much and I… I was afraid I’d mess this up.”

Keith smiled at him, so soft, so precious, walking to stand closer to Shiro, who, even after the time they’d been together since Keith reappeared, was still a little thrown by the fact that those beautiful indigo eyes now stood closer to his than ever before, only a scant few inches between them. His heart stopped, then started beating double time as Keith brought a hand to his face, slowly so Shiro could pull back if he wanted. He could never,  _ would _ never.

“You could never mess this up, Shiro.” His thumb stroked Shiro’s cheek softly, and he leaned into it. “I love you. Always have, one way or another.”

“I love you too,” Shiro breathed, hand coming up to rest on Keith’s waist.

Slowly but inexorably pulled closer to each other by the gravity of the moment, of one another, they kissed.

Two stars, settling into orbit around one another.

Always.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! ❤  
> Come talk to me on [my tumblr](http://mousou-note.tumblr.com/) if you want!
> 
> Here's some things that didn't fit in the fic:  
> Shiro is two or three years older than Keith.  
> Shiro went to the airforce, got into an accident that gave him the scar, the white hair and the arm, and went back home to become a university professor. All his students love him and he's that guy who always grades everything on time.  
> Matt followed in his father's footsteps and became a professor too. But he's that kind that is more preoccupied with his research and is mostly whatever about his classes.  
> Allura is a rich heiress of her late father's corporation.  
> Pidge and Hunk build things that go really fast, and Keith is very good at piloting things that go really fast.  
> Lance is in Marketing and wants to be a test pilot... but there is no simulator he hasn't crashed.  
> Keith lived with his father until he died in a fire, and was put in the system. He's in the system until high school, meets Shiro at some point before that, they're very close. After Shiro leaves for College, Kolivan (Keith's mom's friend) finds him (he hadn't known Krolia had a child, he finds out later) and adopts him. That's how Keith learns martial arts and gets a pilot's licence. At some point he does find Krolia and gets an explanation for why she had to leave him. It's by chance that he applies for test pilot in the company Pidge and Hunk work in, and they end up in the same team so he gets to meet the rest of the gang (and Shiro!!!) again.
> 
> Bonus: Keith's POV in this is reuniting with the high school crush he thought he would never see again, and thinking that he probably brings Shiro bad luck because every time they meet there's an accident.


End file.
